


Desiderium

by laydee_obsidian_13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Disabled Character, Depression, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Grief, Hope, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Loss, M/M, Recovery, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28395636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laydee_obsidian_13/pseuds/laydee_obsidian_13
Summary: An expansion on grief and the grieving process Dean Winchester navigates through as he processes the loss of Castiel. He is not alone, but supported by Sam and Eileen. With their help, one day, he will learn the beauty in loving a comet. Inspired by @SideofAngels tumblr post. Destiel, positive roles for disabled and lgbtq characters.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Despair

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost, this work was inspired by the tumblr post made by user SideofAngels and can be found here:
> 
> post/637957525324660736/secret-good-version-of-15x20-in-my-head-where-dean
> 
> This is dedicated to you, and to the beautiful fandom.
> 
> I have had a genuine connection with Dean throughout the years. My own past trauma at times has paralleled Dean's. 15x19 and 15x20 left me with a feeling of unsettledness for the character. I had hoped for him that defeating Chuck would mean that he could begin to get help so that he could one day be blissfully happy. He sacrificed so much to save the world that his early death seemed untimely and inappropriate. In my opinion the finale did not show character growth on Dean's end despite Jenson Ackles' acting and development of the character.
> 
> While this is a Destiel text, I do hope that the brother's relationship comes through in an authentic way. My goal is to not produce something pulpy but to create something for the other fans who were left disappointed by the ending of an otherwise fantastic show.
> 
> Another one of my primary goals of this work is to provide accurate depiction of bisexuality. I have seen network media use my sexuality as a trope that is largely misunderstood. Bisexuals are often over sexualized, disregarded as either going through a phase or truly still closeted homosexuals. None of this is representative of what it is like to be bisexual.
> 
> I appreciate your thoughts, and ideas immensely and I hope that you do review. While I am a fan, I am only one person with my own biases and ideas for the characters, but that does not necessarily make them the best or the most true to the characters.
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank you for taking the time to read this and review it. It matters a lot to me, and I promise future author notes will be shorter.

**Desiderium**

A/N:

This a cross-list from fanfiction.net I am the writer and owner of this story.

~ж~ 

Desiderium: an ardent desire or longing especially a feeling of grief for something lost.

~ж~ 

Chapter 1: Despair 

Sam walked into the main room of the Bunker late after a night with Eileen. The table was covered with alcohol, photos, and research books. He spied his brother folded on the floor in a fetal position, using a whiskey bottle as a pillow, with stains from tears silently shed earlier that night on his face. It hurt to see his brother in such a state...so lost... Eyeing the photographs, one in particular stood out, it was of Dean, Jack, and Cas in the Impala taken on a whim by Sam one afternoon on the road. His heart panged with loss, and tears began to form in his eyes. Another minute locking eyes with Cas and Jack, and he was certain that he would be in the same position as his brother was now. Out of sad and nervous energy, Sam began cleaning up bottles and sopping up pools of spilled liquor. He cursed himself as two bottles clinked together causing his brother to stir. 

A soft and sad groan escaped Dean's mouth. Sam took that as his cue to leave and come back for the next round of bottles. This routine continued for a week with new bottles each night and the stacks of research books growing taller. While Sam was cleaning up things on this latest night he was too tired to pay attention to his steps and his foot kicked his brother's boot a bit too hard. 

Dean turned onto his side and mumbled "I loved him." 

"I know, Dean. I loved him too." Sam spoke softly. 

It was Dean's drunken reply that startled Sam the most, "No, Sammy, I loved him loved him." A tidal wave of pain and emotion washed over his brother's face and tears filled his eyes. Tears that Sam thought would never stop flowing. 

"I-I know, Dean..." Sam let out a small sigh. He was helpless against Dean's grief. It was the first time he ever heard his brother say how he felt out loud. It was obvious to Sam, and everyone else for that matter, early on, when Dean and Cas had begun to grow close, that they had something more than a "profound bond" between them. Possibly it was the way the angel's eyes would linger just a little too long on Dean's face, or how Cas would stand just a little too close to his brother. Maybe it was the way Dean would straighten up at the sight of Cas, the same way that he would when around a particularly attractive woman. Perhaps it was his unyielding faith in the angel. No, it was far simpler, it was the fact that those lingering glances were returned with a certain sparkle in Dean's eye that no one else, not even Lisa, could bring out. 

Sam had assumed that the other Winchester brother was oblivious to these feelings, surely Cas was. They were so blatant that only those who felt them were in the dark. They were always too close to see. Except for when they were on an extended "break" either due to heaven, Purgatory, or plain idiocracy. During those times, Sam often wondered when Dean would finally spill and admit he was in love with his best friend but it never came. He worried that with Cas's death Dean would be lost to the pits of his own despair. His own version of the Empty on Earth. Dean being Dean refused to speak of it. Not even a whisper of the sorrow that he wore so clearly on his face and carried on his shoulders. 

Sam racked his brain for something, a lyric from a song or a profound quote on grief that he could say and help ease some of Dean's heartbreak but he found nothing would suffice. Sure, they had lost friends, family, even Sam had lost the love of his life more than once, but when you've had such a profound loss like that, there simply are no words that can console the soul. 

A small hiccup broke his focus, "He loved me back..." a broken sob..."he loved me back and I couldn't tell him." Tears flowed freely and quickly from his face. Nevertheless Dean continued, "I was too afraid...I was too afraid to let somebody in...and now?" His voice cracked, "it's too late," and he dissolved into more sobs. Sam sat beside his brother and tentatively placed a hand on his forearm. 

"Why do I do this? I had a chance and I didn't take it. I let him go like I always do..." 

"We were fighting God, Dean...m-m-maybe you didn't have a choice—" 

"No Sammy. I had a choice." 

"Dean, think about it. Our parents fell in love because of a cupid. Eileen and I weren't a choice. I mean now yeah but—" 

"No Sam." Dean's voice turned from sorrow to serious. "Chuck said that every time Cas and I followed orders. In all the other worlds Cas never fell from heaven. We never became best friends. We never..." he trailed off his tone returning sorrowful. "The only thing that was real in this entire world was Cas and I. And I let him go like I always did. This time though he's not coming back, Sammy, and I gotta live with that. Everyday." 

"We will find a way to get him back. We always do." Sam said softly. 

"You wanna take on Mega hell?" Dean looked scornful. "Sammy the last time we took on anything this big every single person was zapped off the god forsaken planet!"

"Cas has been back and forth between the Empty and here a few times." The younger Winchester was ever the optimist. 

"That's because Cas is—was an angel. Strict no human policy remember? I've read every book in here forwards and backwards searching for weeks. You can't summon the empty on Earth. Especially not us." 

"We can find another angel or a-a demon even to help us. Or or Jack." 

"Sam, this time is different."

"Why? If anything we have more help on our side." Ever hopeful Sam Winchester couldn't help but want to try. Fighting through the grief was somewhat second nature to him. 

"Cas...made a deal..." Dean looked more in pain recounting that fateful night to Sam than ever before. "I said 'please don't do this, Cas' like my life depended on it, but the Empty was there and he shoved me out of the way and let it take him willingly." 

A sob louder than Dean would ever let out in front of someone escaped. He sat heads in his hands, shoulders shaking, breath hard and irregular for a while. Inconsolable. 

"I should have fought for him. I should have followed him into the Empty. I should have done something." Dean was mercilessly hard on himself. "I didn't even have the nerve to say 'I love you too'. I couldn't even give him that. He gave everything to us. To me...He saw things in me that I only dreamed of being. I loved him. I knew I loved him. I've loved him for years and I didn't tell him...I didn't tell him," and a quiet calm fell on him. Dean allowed Sam to hold him through his sobs. Almost like a prayer Dean continued so quietly Sam could barely hear the repeated _I-loved-him_ s coming from his brother. He had no idea how horribly his brother was taking Cas' loss. 

Although Sam had questions he decided that they could wait until the morning. In the meantime he was needed with his brother. He gently coaxed Dean to his feet, his be other swaying from a combination of alcohol, loss, and exhaustion. When Dean was steadied, they began the slow walk down the hall and to his bedroom. Sam pulled a pair of flannel pajama pants, a t-shirt, and Dean's favorite grey robe and set them on the bed next to Dean. 

"Get changed. You will feel a little more comfortable. I am going to the kitchen to get you water and tylenol. Have you eaten?" 

Dean looked up through his eyelashes, eyes swollen and red and said, "No. I'm not hungry." 

"That's ok. I'm going to make you a PB & J anyways. You don't have to eat it if you don't want it but it'll be there if your stomach changes its mind." With that, Sam left Dean's room. After a few steps he paused and pulled out his phone. Eileen had called. Rather than video her back, Sam decided instead to text her: 

Dean opened the floodgates about Cas.

It's really bad. Got to stay home for 

a while. Might need help with him. 

Talk tomorrow AM? 

Read 1:04 am

  


Ok, you got it. Family is #1. 

Good night, I love you.

  


I love you too.

Read 1:09 am 

Sam finished getting everything and walked back to Dean's room in record time. When he entered, Dean's eyes were shut and he was leaning against the back of his bed, lamp still on. He was relieved to see his brother asleep in his own bed even if his position was surely going to result in neck pain tomorrow. Sam placed everything on his table and went to turn off the lamp. When Deans hand stopped him. 

"Leave it on." 

Sam silently picked up his brother's clothes off the floor, fishing in the back pocket he pulled out his phone and plugged it into the charger, and shut his bedroom door. Lamp light pouring through the empty space between the door and the floor.

~ж~ 

Dear reader,

Reviews are more than appreciated, they are encouraged. 

The weight of this topic is not lost on me, nor is the environment in which it was written in. If you or a loved one is struggling due to loss or due to the COVID-19 pandemic, help is available for you. 

USA helpline: 1-800-442-4673 

USA Suicide Prevention line: 1-800-273-8255 

You are wanted, you are loved. I am thankful that you have taken the time out of your life, wherever you are to read this story, and I do hope that one day the skies will clear for you too.


	2. Empty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Empty
> 
> a/n: This chapter took me a long time to write because of crippling depression but nevertheless I persisted. I hope you all enjoy it.

**6:30 am**

The alarm on Sam’s phone began blaring, startling him from a dream, his body screaming in protest against the early hour. He had not slept much the previous night, only in short thirty minute intervals, his anxiety necessitating regular checks on his brother. So like clockwork he made hourly rounds, stopping and listening outside Dean’s door before quietly shuffling away. 

Just behind door number eleven, Dean lay awake, eyes fixated on the white ceiling. His mind was racing though more than a decade of memories made with his deceased best friend. Their late night movie “parties” held in secret when Sam was sleeping. Like the time that they watched Tombstone and Dean had to explain at length what “I’m your huckleberry” meant…

**Bunker, Room 11, 2014, evening:**

Cas sat on Dean’s bed, lazily reclined against the headboard, next to the Winchester brother. An old box TV set rested on a cart at the foot of the bed, the screen paused on the opening frame of Tombstone. 

“Ok now, Cas,” Dean looked towards his friend, eyes shimmering with joy, “this is one of the best movies ever created.”

The angel rolled his eyes, “Dean, you say that about every movie we watch together. I’m starting to think that you don’t understand the sentiment behind the phrase.”

A familiar annoyance clawed at Dean.  _ My god, I may strangle him. _ “Look I’m just saying that it’s one of  _ my _ all-time favorites.”

“Well then why don’t you just say that?”

_I will literally murder you right here right now;_ his thoughts in total contrast to how he actually felt, “Just _watch_ the movie, man.” 

Cas, in all his celestial douchery, put on his best bitch face and faced the TV set. Without taking his eyes off the screen he said, “Well are you going to play it?”

Moments when Cas would throw an attitude back at Dean always caused a noticeable jolt of glee within the Winchester. They sat in a comfortable quiet, Dean occasionally shifting his attention to Cas to see the angel’s reaction to different scenes. 

“I’m your huckleberry? Huckleberries are fruit, Dean. What does fruit have to do with this?”

He turned to face Castiel, placing a hand on his shoulder, the other lifted to quiet him, he leveled his gaze. “First of all, it’s not ‘I’m your huckleberry.’ It’s ‘I’m  _ your _ huckleberry.’ And it’s not about fruit, it means ‘I’m the guy who is going to put you in the grave.’”

“That is an odd expression.”

Dean paused and considered it for a moment, chuckling lightly, “Ha, well, I think I saw somewhere that it had to do with casket handles.”

“Casket handles are made of fruit?”

“No no no no no.” Dean rolled his head along with his eyes.  _ Cas could be so stupid sometimes, it was adorable _ . Dean stiffened at the thought in surprise, and his demeanor changed, “It comes from a huckle bearer. Like a person who carries a casket in a funeral. Listen if you have more questions ask Sam I’m sure he’ll be able to tell you a full backstory on it.”

Castiel eyed him suspiciously, but eventually gave a nod of acceptance. 

**Present:**

A tear slid down Dean’s face. He banged his head against his pillow. Another memory coming to the forefront of his mind. 

**Motel room, day 1, 2013:**

_ Cas, you still here, man? …. I don’t even know if you can hear me here. I don’t know how all this works. If you’re still alive, keep fighting. I need you to keep fighting over there….for...f-for me.  _

  
  


**New motel room, day 15, 2013:**

_ Cas? Castiel? I swear I thought I saw you today on the road. I know that was you a-a-and then again tonight...in the window...I miss you. If you’re back please come to us. We will sort this out together like always...  _

_ I thought my heart might have stopped for a minute seeing you. Maybe it did, or maybe I’m going crazy but...I dunno...I’m so sorry. I failed you. I left you there. I should have never left you alone there... Everything feels harder without you…. I miss you….I hope you’re still with us. Keep fighting. Just, please, keep fighting. _

**Present:**

Dean’s tears swelled into soft ragged breaths. He needed Cas like he needed air. Every cell screamed to have that angel bust open his door and say, “Hello, Dean.” The longing that he felt was more than any craving or desire. It felt like a piece of him was torn away and irrevocably destroyed leaving behind a festering wound.

Then the sobs gave way to a rapid breath that Dean couldn’t catch. His heart raced. His muscles clenched tighter with each exhale. His abdomen tightened to the point of forcing him to double over. His hands went numb. He thought he might throw up; instead the sobs that were escaping him grew louder. Pain and sorrow radiated from his shoulders and biceps. Dean tried to hold his breath to stop the panic attack but it was of no use. 

“God….I just want him back...I need him. I can’t do this without him.” It was a whisper that Dean never meant to breathe out. But once it was out, his tears fell even more easily than before. After several moments, he sat up and the room spun and his head pounded. He grabbed headphones, lowered the volume such that it was just barely audible, and pressed play on whatever was loaded into the Walkman. He reached out and shut off the lamp, and then promptly curled up under the covers. Sleep would not come. 

Sam saw the light click off under the door as he approached for his 7:30 am round. He wondered if this was a sign that Dean would wake up. The last several weeks, Sam would be on a run at this time, but after last night, it seemed wrong to leave Dean’s side. Eileen would be by shortly with a few groceries, namely, apple hand pies, enough bacon to feed a family of 12 for three weeks, and coffee. Dean’s essentials.

Sam checked their beer reserves and while there was still some left, it was unlikely to be enough for Dean. He felt a bit of sadness as he looked at the depleted stock and knew that soon Dean would have to get real help for his drinking, but now didn’t feel right. Dean lost his person. You don’t come back from that. At least not after 4 weeks.  _ Had it really been a month _ , he thought to himself and then immediately felt guilty for not being present for his brother again. 

Hey, I just pulled into the garage

Read 7:40 am

I’ll come help with the bags.

Ok thanks.

Read 7:41 am

As Sam and Eileen put away groceries, they began to talk. “Eileen, it’s bad. He’s nearly catatonic. And the  _ drinking _ . It is worse than I’ve ever seen before.”

“He’s lost Cas before, hasn’t he? What was he like then?”

“He was a mess. The last time things went south, he lost faith in everything. He became reckless. He had a death wish and he’d acted on it. But this seems different, like it is more than before.” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Fearing the worst, Eileen whispered, “Oh my god…”

“What went down between the two of them… leveled him.” Anguish filled Sam’s face, and Eileen brought her hand to Sam’s cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her perfume and leaned into her touch.

“What happened. Tell me. I want to be able to help.”

“Cas, he... made a deal with the Empty about a year ago...to take Jack’s place. Except the Empty, it didn’t want him then. Instead it wanted him when he was happiest. When Cas had long forgotten about their deal. But Billie was gunning for them, and Cas remembered. So for him to summon the Empty he--”

“Had to be happiest that he could be.”

“Exactly. He told Dean that he loved him. And then shoved him out of the way. The Empty took Billie and Cas, and that was it. You know the rest.”

“And Dean?”

“Never had the chance to tell him.”

“Cas knew, though. Everybody knew. Hell, demons joked about.”

“I don’t think Dean really knew until--”

  
“It was too late.”

“Yeah...I want to check on him. Mind putting coffee on while I make the bacon?”

Walking down to Dean’s room with a tray of food felt odd and formal for Sam. Normally Dean would be out of bed and in the kitchen ready for toast by now. His footsteps slowed as he approached the door. He hadn’t thought this through, and wished Eileen had come with to open the door. Setting the tray on the ground, Sam heard a very quiet sob followed quickly by a cough and sniffle emanate from his brother’s room. 

“Sammy?” Dean said in a hoarse quiet voice.

Sam cracked the door but stayed out of sight. “Uh, yeah, I, um, brought you breakfast if you’re hungry. Coffee, toast, bacon.”

“Yeah, bring it in.”

He could see the misery on Dean’s face. Bloodshot red eyes contrasting his green. Sallow cheeks and down-turned mouth. He approached the bed and set the tray down next to him and sat at the foot of the bed. “Dean--”

“Sam...I can’t,” Dean raised his hand in protest.

“No Dean, you’ve got to talk about this. I’m not leaving until you do.”

Dean leveled a look at Sam that expressed a beg,  _ Please don’t do this to me, _ and anger,  _ I hate you for doing this to me _ .

“What do you want me to say, Sam? That I miss him. I miss a lot of people. We’ve lost so many people, but Cas? Cas is different so I don’t want to go there.” Dean stared defiantly into Sam’s eyes, but when Sam didn’t react, the words began to pour out of him. “Do you want me to tell you that it hurts? It  _ hurts _ . Just breathing  _ hurts _ . Sitting here knowing he is  _ never coming back hurts! _ And I did this to  _ him _ . I insisted on going after Billie. I’m the reason he’s gone, Sam.  _ His blood is on my hands. _ And all I want to do is look at him and tell him  _ I love you, you stupid son of a bitch _ and I can’t do that. I’m never going to be able to do that. He is  _ gone.  _ And all I have left is a giant fucking hole where he used to be.”

Sam continued to listen quietly, afraid to interrupt this new found communication between him and Dean. He had never seen Dean as fragile as he was in that moment, trying so hard to keep it together. To keep talking.

“We’ve done this... Hell, I’ve done this more times than anybody should. And every time he’s gone it has gotten harder…” Dean sighed and leveled a look at Sam, then just barely above a whisper he continued, “I can’t do this again. It’s too big, Sam. It’s too big.” Dean looked away, new tears brimmed in his eyes, and a scowl adored his face. He let out a sigh and pressed his hands to his eyes, wiping away the tears. 

There was nothing Sam could say, so instead he sat in silence with Dean. A few tears began to form in his eyes. He missed his friend, but mostly he missed Cas for the person that Dean was when Castiel was around. Dean was more thoughtful, hopeful, and stable, and Sam wanted that for his brother. 

Their silence was broken by a knock on the door, and a soft “Sam?”

“Eileen?” Dean’s brow furrowed in confusion, and then like the flip of a coin, his entire demeanor changed, masking the sorrow it previously adorned. “Sam, why didn’t you say something? Hey, Eileen...haha…come on in! Long time no see!”

“Hi Dean.” She sidestepped and stood close to the door. The room was filthy, beer bottles and clothes strewn about. “Did you like your breakfast?” She pointed to the untouched tray, perhaps the gentle reminder of its presence would be enough to get him to eat. 

Dean instantly grabbed a piece of bacon and took the mug in his hands.  _ Wouldn’t want to offend the first chick that Sam’s picked that is actually a keeper. _ Sheepishly with a mouthful of bacon, “oh yeah…” slurp of coffee, “it’s great! Really thanks, Eileen!” He cleared his throat and continued, “So…ah...Eileen, how you’ve been?”

“I’m ok. Sam?” She paused for Sam to face her, “I got the kitchen cleaned up but I think there is a leak. Not big, but you should fix it.”

“Where?” Sam signed. 

“Come with me, moron.” She signed back. 

“Ok.”

Dean watched utterly bewildered by the motions. Maybe the leak was in the back of the trap where the pipes joined the wall? Or at least that was his best guess based on their silent communications. 

Turning towards Dean, Sam said, “I’m gonna go get my tools and I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Catching up with Eileen, Sam placed a hand on her shoulder and began signing when he had her attention, “What was that?”

“I have an idea. Cas can summon the Empty here. Why not us? Can’t we bring him back?”

The beauty of signing was that Dean didn’t know it and couldn’t hear their conversation, but Sam’s ASL was still pretty rusty and it took time; nevertheless he persisted. What Eileen was proposing wasn’t possible no matter how much he wished it was. “People can’t summon the Empty. Dead angels, dead demons, go to the Empty.” 

“OK…” After several beats she continued, “Idea! Find a demon. Give them a message for Cas. Send the demon to the Empty.”

“Only problem, a demon helping us is practically impossible. They hate us.”

“What about Rowena?”

“I guess we are going to have to make a--”

Sam stopped abruptly when he heard the sound of Dean approaching the kitchen. He held a finger to his mouth to tell Eileen not to speak. He wiped around to the sink and opened cabinets beneath it using his phone as a flashlight to see the pipes.

“Sam, do you want some help?” Dean asked. He looked around the room and noticed that only one tool bag was present: his brother. “Where's the leak?”

“Umm. It’s already fixed.”

“Sam, you were in here for all of five minutes and you have no tools.” He paused, then his eyes grew wide at the realization, nodding, “You know if you wanted alone time you could have just said so. You don’t have to check on me, Sam, I’m a big boy, got a driver’s license and all.”

Sam just looked blankly at Dean. If he and Eileen were going to do this they’d have to be more stealthy about it. He couldn’t risk dangling getting Cas back in front of Dean if it wasn’t a sure thing. 

“Anyways,” Dean continued, “if the leak is fixed, then I’m guessing I can take a shower?” Sam nodded in reply. 

While Dean showered, Team Get Cas Back was hard at work in the library pulling on not just their usual lore books, but also the ones inherited from Rowena. If there was a chance of making this work, she’d have it. Getting to hell wouldn’t be simple like before; there were no angels to provide any grace. So while Eileen searched the lore books, Sam searched for signs of demon deals. If they were getting to hell, then they’d need help from below. 

He peered above the laptop screen at her every so often. She was so beautiful, serene in her search, almost graceful. She began to lift her head, and immediately Sam looked hard at his laptop, avoiding her gaze. His brow furrowed, three “wolf” attacks on successful businessmen along a highway corridor. The whole story wreaked of demon deals.

“Hey, I think I’ve got something.”

“Got what?” Except it wasn’t Eileen’s voice, instead it was Dean’s. Sam jumped.

“I found a case. I think Eileen and I can handle it. Looks like a string of demon deals getting called, but it’s creating a lot of chaos in the town. Shouldn’t be too bad, we’ve fought worse.” They certainly had. Dean began to open his mouth in protest but was immediately silenced by Eileen.

“Yeah, Dean. Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you: my car, I think it needs a ball joint replaced. I ran over a vamp head by accident after a hunt, and now there is a rattle whenever I drive it. Do you guys have the right stuff in the garage here? Otherwise, I will take it to the shop nearby.”

“Uh...I can check. I mean I guess I can do it for you.” Dean narrowed his eyes. Something fishy was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was. “Did you order the part already?”

“Yeah, it’s in the trunk,” Eileen smiled sweetly, “You don’t have to do it. I know how, I just don’t have the press and I don’t want to keep driving on it.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it.” Dean smirked. Then he turned his focus on Sam, his tone completely changed, “I’m guessing you want Baby then?”

“It’s either that or one of the other cars in the garage.”

“If you bring her back with a single scratch so help me god.” Dean fished in his pockets for the keys. 

“Not a single scratch, you got it. I’m gonna go pack a bag quick.” Sam practically ran out of the library and away from a suspicious Dean. He had no idea what he would have to barter to get down there to talk to Rowena but it didn’t matter. They had to try for Dean.

“What about you? No bag needed?” Dean asked.

“I keep one in my car. You never know when you might need to go take care of a monster. Come with me, I’ll show you what’s going on.” With that, Dean and Eileen left for the garage with only one thing on their minds: Castiel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The next chapter is already mapped out so hopefully it doesn’t take that long to come out. Bonus Rowena will be back!


	3. Reckless

Chapter 3:   
A/N: This story takes place several days after chapter 2.

Dive bar, very late evening:

Dean sat at the bar signalling for another round. Upside down shot glasses lined in front of him. The bartender finished pouring a drink, and leant forward her low cut top exposing more than a little bit of cleavage. “Another?” She spoke, Dean licked his lips and leveled a smouldering look at her. Meanwhile, two girls eye him from a distance.

“I think you have an admirer,” the bartender said as one of them approached him, and slid two shots his way. He knocked back one, and set the other on the bar table to the left of him without looking. 

“Is this seat taken?” Mystery girl said coily.

“Last I knew this was for you.” He turned his head. It didn’t matter what she looked like. She was not Cas, but she was here and that was enough for Dean. Tomorrow night it would be a different face with him on the dance floor and then in the back of a random Men of Letters car. And no matter the girls, none erased the nightmares he faced at night. The nightmares that left him feeling hollow. Nightmares that weren’t nightmares at all, but always ended with him and Cas.

On one unremarkable night while Sam and Eileen were on a job, Dean repeated his ritual, except this girl, with the short dark hair and sky blue eyes nearly stopped him dead in the water. Somehow she convinced him to dance to a song and she did everything right. She went shot for shot with him, had a dry literal sense of humor about her and an angel wing tattoo on full display on her back.

It didn’t take much effort for him to convince her to come with him out to his car. Nothing more than a nice smile and a wink. When they kissed all thoughts left his mind. ‘Oh yes, she would do.’ Her hands all over his body, and his all over hers, in her hair, caressing the tattoo on her back, the curves of her body. Hands growing more eager with each piece of shed clothing, both getting lost exploring every and every inch of each other. It wasn’t long until there was no distance between them.

Then beyond any of his will he wasn’t staring up at tonight’s Mystery Woman, but he was getting lost in someone else’s ocean eyes. He was surrounded by sweat, muscle, and the scent of ozone mixed with a musk that reminded him of a church. Dean’s eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing became irregular. Imagining his mouth falling agape, sucking in a breath and panting out a gravely, “Dean.” Just as he does each night in his dreams like a ghost. It is enough to send Dean nearly bursting, and in his delusion he panted out a very real, a very outloud, “fuck, Cas, yes.” He was met, however, with a sound of complete disgust, and the very real image of Mystery Woman. 

“It’s Mandy! Jesus, you can’t even keep a first name straight!” She got off of him and began dressing quickly. 

“Hey woah woah what are you doing, Mandy?”

“Getting dressed. Look you’re too fucked up for this to be consensual.” Dean couldn’t even protest, she was right. He threw his boxer briefs on, no sign of a hard on. She continued, “Listen, I get it, I’m obviously not here for love either, but you might want to wait until you’re over her.”

“Him.” He eyed her, unsure of what her reaction would be. She looked away, almost dreamlike.

“Wanna talk about what happened?” She didn’t judge him. Something about her reminded him of Charlie. 

“He died.” Dean made a silent prayer to not cry and maintain a shred of dignity in this situation.

“Oof, dead boyfriend. Yeah there is no one who is going to be able to compete with that. At least not any time soon.”

Dignity be damned, a tear formed in his eye and he quickly cursed it away, “We never were together.”

“The one that got away….Mind if I smoke?”

“Ugh, outside?”

Mandy got out, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the car, Dean finished dressing and joined her. She offered him a drag which he quickly waved away.

“So, how did Cas die?” she asked sincerely.

“He took a bullet...meant for me.”

She nodded, “Sounds like a saint,” and Dean gave a nod in agreement. “What branch were you two in?” He thanked his lucky stars for her assumption.

“Army. We were stationed overseas, we had two people gunning for us and got trapped, and gave himself up so I could get out and get to the rest of our squad.”

“Man, that’s rough.” She took another drag of her cigarette. “I know the army is a lotta bit eh,” she gestured, “about gay people but do you think he knew?”

“How I felt?” Dean paused and wondered. “I don’t think so and I didn’t get a chance to tell him. Things were...cut short.”

Something clicked for her, her eyes opening slightly wider in realization, “Oh... did he love you?” There was something about Mandy that was refreshing. Maybe it was because she was a stranger and didn’t judge him, but around her, in that moment it was easier than ever for him to be who he truly was. Despite his hard exterior, he looked up at the stars and tears welled in his eyes, he nodded yes. Then he felt the back of her hand gently tap the back of his, passing the cigarette into it. He lifted it to his mouth, the warm smoke filling his lungs. He hadn’t done this since he was a kid, before he had to sit in school for a DARE class. Something about those blackened lungs stuck with him and he swore up and down he’d never smoke again, but that was before he lost Cas. She lit another of her own.

“That’s some heavy shit.” She said, Dean nodded again. They stayed like that talking for several hours casually talking and opening up to each other. She gave him space to be sad and reminisce without being sad herself. 

“Alright, last question, and then I think we are both sober enough to depart safely.”

“Yeah,” Dean laughed. “This Anthony dude, what was so special about him?”

She threw her head back in laughter while Dean took a drag from her last cigarette, “Special? I don’t think he was necessarily special unless you call eating pizza with a knife and fork special. But he did make me laugh.”

Chuckling out the smoke, “Fork and knife pizza? I know I don’t really know you but like you’ve got to have better standards than that!”

“Ha ha ha, okay. Your turn. Same question.”

“Cas, I mean he was Cas you know. If you saw him, you’d never even think twice about him but he was one of the best people I ever fought with…” Dean pulled out his phone and began searching for an image. He stopped when he found it. It was of Cas beaming, nose scrunched. His eyes shone with joy. “Here,” he passed her the phone and pointed at the screen, “You’d never think he’d be so lethal, but he was. I never felt scared fightin’ with him by my side ‘til that night. He just, he always surprised me. Then,” Dean sighed, “Then he had to go and save me...”

Without the haze of alcohol, the loss stung in a way Dean had been avoiding. All encompassing fear and sorrow. His lip quivered as he sucked in a tearful breath. Mandy tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder, and drew him closer and into a hug. They remained like that until dusk.

Appleton, Wisconsin, early evening:

They found the demon and laid the trap fairly easily.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis--” Sam began.

“What makes you think I’d help a Winchester and a hunter bitch?”

“Satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis--”

The demon began to smoke out, but found itself unable to go far. It eyed Sam. “How?”

“Demon trap carved on the bullet, courtesy of the bitch.” Eileen stated frankly.

“Adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica. Ergo, omnis legio diabolica, adiuramus te." The black smoke from the demon left the lifeless body of its vessel and burned on the ground returning it to hell. “Next time don’t call her a bitch.”

“Sam, this is the fifth crossroads demon we’ve tried and had to exorcise. I don’t think this is working. They won’t help us.”

“Well we have to try. I’ll give Dean a call and let him know we are going to grab another case while we are out here.”

Hell:

“My liege, there are rumblings that a Winchester is killing crossroad demons.”

“They’re Winchesters, dear, the demons probably had it coming.”

“With all due respect,” the demon bowed his head, “the tall one is the one who is summoning them.”

Rowena’s mood shifted anger flashing in her eyes. 

“What about the short one?”

“He is not there. A woman is with him.” 

“Tell all crossroad demons that they are not to make any deals until I am back! Get out! Leave me now!” Rowena’s temper boiled over, as soon as the underling left her chambers she quickly left.

Bunker, outside, evening:

Rowena stood at the entrance to the Bunker debating with herself on how to best get Dean’s attention, then she decided to do the most sensible thing, call him.

Bunker, kitchen:  
“Rowena?” Dean answered gruffly

“Hello, Dean, have a minute to chat? I am outside the door, be a dear and come let Auntie Rowena in.” He debated with himself, but ultimately made his way to the bunker’s entry way. 

Entering the bunker, “Ah yes, Dean, not looking so good now are we?”

“And hello to you too.”

“I didn’t come here to exchange pleasantries, tell me, why is your brother and his lady killing my loyal subjects?”

“What are you talkin’ about?” Dean asked out of genuine confusion.

“Stop toying with me, boy, why is your brother summoning and ‘ganking’ my crossroad demons?”

“I can tell you that he’s not killing any that didn’t deserve it, but when we talked this morning he told me he was hunting a shifter in Wisconsin.” 

“So you have no idea?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Rowena eyed him cautiously, something was distinctly off about him. “What’s wrong?”

He looked away, pursed his lips, and furrowed his brow.

“The silent treatment?” He continued to ignore her. “Cat got your tongue?” She waited for his reply, but it did not come, “Dean, we’ve known each other for a while, I’d even say that at times, we were friends. Out with it.”

He looked at her, he was so reluctant, all she needed to do was push a bit harder.

“You and your brother in a wee tift?”

“No, but we might be when he gets back.”

“So... if it’s not your brother, then…” she stopped, gears turning, and then she got it, just above a whisper she spoke, “Castiel?”

“You don’t get to say his name!” Anger flared in him.

“That’s it….Oh dear,” she sighed. The vindictive cruel woman faded away, and the loving side of her took over. She stepped closer to him and held his hand, “That angel of yours was something special. I always thought that he and my dear Fergus were shattered at the altar of Winchester, but it appears that a Winchester was shattered at the altar of Castiel.”

Ripping her hand away, “Stop! Just stop! I’m done.” Dean stopped himself from yelling and continued, “I told you what I know, you’re just going to have to go talk to Sam. Wherever the hell he is.”

She continued to maintain eye contact with him, almost as if she were reading him magically. Defiantly, she went to the bar cart, and poured two drinks, one whiskey and one gin. She passed Dean the whiskey and gestured for him to sit down. She threw back her drink, and poured herself a second immediately. “I won’t say his name, darlin’, but I will say that we both have people that we love in there, and I wouldn’t mind staying for a while.”

Middle of nowhere, Wisconsin, evening:

Sam and Eileen were working on their next demon. They had gotten lucky and found one at a rural bar making a deal with some sad sack. They managed to lure him out back.

“There are two ways that this can go.”

“Oh yeah tiger? What’s that? I want the one where I kill you and wear your lady as my meat suit.”

“Shut up!” Sam yelled, “we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easy way is you do what we ask and we leave you alone. The hard way is…well…” Eileen flashed Ruby’s demon blade. The demon flashed his black eyes, his temper flared.

“What is it?”

“So you’ll help?” Sam was surprised.

“I asked what it was not if I’d help.”

“We need a message to get to Rowena. Tell her, tell her we have a plan to pull someone out of the Empty.”

“Why would Rowena help you? If I go to her with that, I’m down south for a century.”

“Because--” Sam began, but Eileen quickly cut him off. 

“Because her son is in the Empty.”

Meanwhile at the bunker:

“I remember when I first held Fergus. He was perfect, but I knew I was bad for him. I couldn’t care for him like he would need. I was too selfish. Too power hungry. Then when I met him again it felt like the universe had said, ‘now is your chance’, but I missed it. I missed the chance to be his mother, for him to be my son.” Tears filled her eyes. Rowena desperately missed her son, there was no use hiding that. She would never get to see him in his afterlife in the Empty. 

Dean nodded listening, his face drawn of all joy. He looked up from his now empty glass. She offered him a second, “I’m good...I’m not even sure I got a chance. Maybe ten seconds.”

Ignoring his request and passing him a second drink, Rowena said, “and a lifetime of regret. At least for you, you’re not immortal.” 

“At least for you, if you die, you go to the same place,” Dean spoke softly into his drink. Her phone rang. Dean continued to sip staring at his glass, searching for the bottom. She stood from her seat, “Hello?....Really now?....Uh-huh,” after hanging up the phone she turned to Dean, “it appears that I am needed elsewhere. A queen’s job never ends. As always, Dean, it’s been a pleasure.”

Wisconsin, late evening:

It was a long shot, but the demon actually agreed to get their message to Rowena. The pair had skipped town fast enough that the demon wouldn’t be a problem for them. At the motel, Eileen began digging for something in her bag, after finding it a wicked smile flashed across her face.

“What?” Sam signed. Eileen held up a joint, and chuckled. Her eyes shone like polished metal. 

“Is that?” Sam continued, Eileen nodded, she was giddy, and Sam was as well. 

“Took it from the demon in Indiana the other night.” Tonight would be fun. Sam grabbed two beers, opened the tops and the two celebrated a win for a change. 

“Watch this!” Sam took a long drag, held his breath, and then blew a smoke ring, Eileen beamed at Sam and clapped her hands with glee. She motioned for Sam to pass it, and taking a drag herself, she brought Sam’s close to her face. Opening his mouth to kiss her, she slowly let out the smoke, and Sam inhaled it and closed the distance between them. Kissing Eileen felt like coming home. 

He threaded his fingers with hers and pulled her on top of him. To be with her and free of any spell or Chuck’s meddling was nothing short of miraculous. It felt better than anything Chuck had ever done. Here she was, strong, warm, beautiful, so fucking beautiful and she was with him by choice. There was no doubt that what he felt for her weeks earlier was only a glimmer of the very real feelings he had. Their kissing continued to deepen, getting more and more desperate. 

“Um hmm? I believe you were looking to meet with me?” Rowena’s voice startled Sam so much he practically threw Eileen off of him. 

“Rowena!”

“I leave one Winchester drunk to find another higher than a kite tartin’ around with a hunter. How the Winchesters have fallen. Samuel, good taste in women,” Eileen smiled, Rowena continued,   
“bad taste in weed. This room smells worse than a Dave Matthews Band concert. Now whatever the two of you have cooked up, won’t work. I’ve seen your brother, he doesn’t need more magic or demons, he needs therapy.”

“You saw Dean?”

“For about three hours. Please explain to me how you can be galavanting out here when your brother is in that state. He needs you. He needs support.”

“We’re not ‘galavanting’, we are working to get your attention. We are a little short on angel grace these days, so you’ve got to come to us. We want to get Cas back.”

“Sam, Cas is in the Empty, the only one who has any power there is Jack, and I haven’t even heard a whisper about him since you beat Chuck. Have you?”

“Not exactly…”

“And why, then, would I? Don’t you think if Jack could save Castiel he already would’ve? Or Jack would listen to your prayers? You have tried praying to him?” 

“We think we can break him out.” Eileen stated. Rowena scoffed, “It is a long shot, but you’re magic has done crazier things.”

“Why would I even help you? What would I get out of having an expert demon smiter on Earth again?”

Sam knew the one word that would convince her, “Fergus.” 

Bunker, late evening: 

Dean stared at the empty glass, a bead of whiskey clinging to the bottom. The bottle across the table from him was empty.

‘I ruined him,’ he thought. ‘Cas you LEFT ME! You always leave me. You left me like my mom left me. Like my dad left me. Like Sam left me. I told you don’t do this! I didn’t want you to leave me! I wanted you to stay! And you fucking left me AGAIN!’

Hot bitter tears fell and an anger filled him. Behind that was frustration, fear, love, pain, loss, everything. Anger was the only thing he could hang onto and so he whipped the glass clear across the room shattering it against the brick wall. Then the bottle. Then the lamp. Then the chair and a second and a third and a fourth. The framed photos of founding Men of Letters crashing down. Finally he flipped the table and it slid against the rubble. His body screamed in the release of all that tension and his breath became faster than he could catch. His balled fists pounded at his thighs, his head hung and face twisted in pain. 

‘I hate you. I hate you for leaving me again.’

He lifted his head and shouted pointing up at the ceiling, “You hear that Cas! Castiel! Do you hear me? I hate you! I didn’t want you to leave and you left me! You left me to deal with life without you in it! And I hate you because I can’t hate you! Because I can’t stop loving you!” His voice cracked and the inescapable tears fell, “Fuck!” He rubbed his face, yawned, and walked away shaking his head. He’d clean things up tomorrow.

It was barely dawn when Sam and Eileen returned to the bunker to find the mess. Rowena had promised to meet with them the following day at a nearby cafe.

“Um…” Sam nodded hands on his hips, eyes wide at the mess. He pinched his brow.

“I think we will need a big trash can.” Eileen said flatly.

Turning to face her, “Yep. I’ll be back.” 

Eileen didn’t wait for Sam, she walked the opposite direction to room 11 and knocked on the door.

“You’re going to have to open the door since I won’t be able to hear you otherwise.” The door opened wide. Dean was fuming and crying. Eileen’s expression and mood softened.

“I fixed your car,” Dean said flatly, handing her the keys.

“Thanks.” She eyed him suspiciously, “What happened in the library? A monster?”

“Nope. That was me.” Dean was colder to her than he had intended, but truthfully he just wanted to be left alone.

“Well your brother is cleaning it up now, go help him.” Eileen walked away not interested in reply. 

When Dean got to the library Sam was already cleaning and filling the trash can with debris. Dean silently picked up a large piece of shattered glass and tossed it into the can. They continued to clean in silence. As Sam tossed the last chair leg into the can, Dean spoke, “How was the hunt?”

Sam returned his brother’s flatness, “Fine.”

“Baby?”

“Keys are in the garage.”

Dean waited a beat before speaking again, “Why did you lie to me?”

“I don’t know.” Sam feigned ignorance, which flared anger in Dean.

“I’m gonna ask you again, why did you lie to me? Why are you still lyin’ to me, man?”

“Because, Dean, you’re already unstable and if we’re wrong about this you’re not coming back from that.”

“I know that I’ve been a little depressed lately but--” Dean retorted defensively.

“A little? Dean, look,” he gestured to the full trash can, “you won’t deal with losing Cas, instead you just keep drinking, sleeping around, and hiding away in your room! You need help, because if we’re right, he can’t come back to this,” The last word Sam looked Dean up and down and shook his head in disappointment. 

“Are you friggin serious right now?” Sam blinked in response. “I’m drunk not stupid. You’re telling me that you’re cooking up some way to bring him back without me?” Dean scoffed and began taking steps backwards. He was hurt.

“Yeah, you’re staying out of this,” Sam said with conviction. “Dean, you need AA and therapy, because if we’re wrong you won’t make it, and if we’re right the two of you won’t make it. Finish cleaning your mess. I’m going to bed.”

“AA and therapy? Really?” He waited for Sam to back down, when that didn’t happen, “Go to hell, Sam.” 

At that Sam let out a short sigh, and walked away.“I’ve already been. Didn’t take.”  
Dean was reeling. Are you fucking serious! Dean resisted the urge to destroy more of the library than he already had and managed to clean the rest of the space up, and then walked to his room and slammed the door shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter has Charlie. I guess its a little au in the sense that i don't accept her death so the charlie we get is the charlie we love not the other verse charlie. XD

**Author's Note:**

> Dear reader,
> 
> Reviews are more than appreciated, they are encouraged.
> 
> The weight of this topic is not lost on me, nor is the environment in which it was written in. If you or a loved one is struggling due to loss or due to the COVID-19 pandemic, help is available for you.
> 
> USA helpline: 1-800-442-4673
> 
> USA Suicide Prevention line: 1-800-273-8255
> 
> You are wanted, you are loved. I am thankful that you have taken the time out of your life, wherever you are to read this story, and I do hope that one day the skies will clear for you too.


End file.
